Nuair a d’fhágais gan spás gan am mé
Is ea a bhláthaís i lár an tsamhraidh ionam
Is bheinn fós Ionat
Ach gur reoigh dord an chuisneora mé
Cathain a bheidh an tost féin ina thost
Cathain a thráfaidh an éigse?
When You left me without space or time
Was when You bloomed in me in summer
I would still be in You
But for the hum of the fridge that froze me
When will silence itself be silent
When will poetry softly ebb away?